I think about how it started…
I would have the fantasy and deny it.
I would have the fantasy and acknowledge having it, but keep it secret.
I would have the fantasy and accept it.
I would have the fantasy and admit it.
Take a risk and say the words aloud.
Think about doing it.
Talk about doing it.
Shy away, too frightened to even believe I enjoyed it.
Think about it.
Try it again.
Admit to myself that I enjoyed it.
Try it again, and again.
Start needing it.
Ask for it.
Try to control it.
Try to confine it within a set of rules.
But rules make a lie of it.
Mock the truth of it.
Tear the heart out of it.
Control it and kill it.
He knew this instinctively,
When I tried to do it by the book,
Write the contract, define the rules, control it,
He became so enraged,
Throwing away the paper,
He refused to even read it.
He was so pissed off that I did not trust him,
Trust his integrity, his wisdom, his love, his limits.
He was furious that I tried to write it all down,
Confine him with words,
Chain him with rules, control him with my doubts.
So here I am without words tying him down,
Trusting, letting go,
Believing in him,
Ennoble him, love him.
Embrace his vision, his power.
It is not enslavement.
It is freedom.
Freedom from fear.
No longer trying it.